27

At 27, I'm going to watch my words. At least that's what I ought to have said to myself as I was preparing to turn the page into a new year of life. Instead, I've used my words like an idiot today. An underage, incoherent, babbling idiot. Instead of biting my tongue as I was working through some complex emotions in relation to a couple of things that S did this morning, I chose to voice my tadpole-like thoughts, inchoate as they were. Confusion and frustration (understandably) resulted on S's part. Since then, she has regarded me as politely and detachedly as one would a distant cousin - twice removed, related to your least favourite uncle, whom you see once every five or so years at family gatherings. 

This is an ironic twist, because in allowing this verbal dross to spill out of me, I have ignored a favourite piece of advice I have often directed at S: not everything has to be said. There is a time for everything, says the Teacher, and I couldn't agree more. I have been better in the past at knowing when to speak and when not to. Evidently greater years do not equal greater wisdom; what a shame to discover this deficiency in myself at the relatively jeune age of 27. 

My error with S was in speaking when I should have stayed silent. My error in other areas today has been staying silent when I should have spoken. I actually wanted to celebrate 27, in some small way. But this realisation struck me at what I perceived to be too late a moment. I didn't feel like I could send the message, make the restaurant booking, tap the friends on the shoulder. And so I didn't. As a result, at a moment where my closest friendship is one that is causing me to hold my breath, I have nowhere else to retreat. I will smile through dinner, cut the tart that I bought myself, and then come back downstairs to what I assume will be a stony silence to fall asleep. 

At 27, am I loved? This is all I want to know. My slip-up with S today was to do with a perceived lack of a response to this question. This relational fracture, however, has allowed me to go deeper in answering it. 

Yes, I am loved. (And liked, which is almost as important.) By God, most of all - his love is safest. By friends - even if I'm not liked by all of them, all of the time. By family - no matter how distant I am feeling from them. I am loved, I am loved, I am loved. And I will go into 27 safe in this knowledge.